Chapter 69: Over Light 3
"They appear to have turned towards us, though I do not know if that means that they have found us yet."
"What else could it mean?!"
"I cannot think of an alternative. I will operate under the implied assertion they are working to lessen our burden. Recalculated arrival time is 72 minutes."
That was an incredible time drop, almost 50 minutes. Don had guessed that there would be more to the Oberlux than its extreme size and questionable shape, but he never expected that 'speed' would be part of this mystery. He wondered if actual cuisine was onboard the enigma of a spacecraft.
A burst of green light drew his wandering attention back to the task, and threat, at hand. A collection of brilliant blue, cyan, and purples followed, agitating his eyes and teasing his throbbing headache.
The band around his right elbow, part of his flight suit, let off a subdued 'pop'. Accompanied by a prick of pain, barely registered by his otherwise aching body, and a hot, wet sensation in the crevice of that same elbow.
"What was it, and how much of it?"
"Painkiller, full dose. Coagulant, as necessary."
"Coagulant?"
"Your bleeding has not stopped. As a matter of fact, there are bruises all over your body that I had not registered as they were underneath your clothing. I had attributed the increase in body heat to sudden combat conditions. For some reason the bleeding does not seem to be stopping."
That armband was a life saving device for the injured pilot. With cockpits often being far too small to perform any proper first aid, the press of a button could administer a variety of drugs. Painkillers, stimulants, coagulants, anti-toxins, all would be injected directly into the bloodstream at the elbow.
In Don's case, he wasn't expected to press one of the buttons on his own, instead it was attached to ARC's system for administration of substances at its discretion. The reasons for which were now exceedingly obvious.
"How bad is it?"
"Extremely. Worst case scenario you will have to rest for up to half a month."
"I don't feel THAT bad."
"You are currently under the effects of enough painkillers to send a rat into a coma and have produced enough adrenaline to induce cardiac arrest in some smaller species of birds. Whatever impact caused this level of bruising across the entirety of your body was no doubt capable of causing minor fractures in you bones. I can say for certain that you are concussed."
He took a moment to examine the only exposed skin he could see, his hands. Sure enough, the area around his wrists was a slightly darker shade of grey that he would have preferred not to have seen.
"Keep you head on your head on a swivel and your eyes open. Once the safety of the Noah has been guaranteed, I will do everything that I am capable of to assist in your recovery."
- - - - - - - - - -
"It's quite nimble, is it not?"
With the lion's share of energy being devoted to defense, and what remained being designated to move towards the Noah, the crew in charge of the weapons looked to the dancing speck to stave off some of the boredom.
"Eh, not really. I'm confident I could outmaneuver it."
"Not a chance. You couldn't get the drop on a Skwiven, let alone someone evading the wrath of a star."
"I could too! I'd just have to use one of my father's craft."
"HAAAA-HA-HA. Little man thinks he's got knack for the void but he needs to use daddy's ship? Just admit the person in control of that thing is a cut above anything you'll ever achieve. Make it a habit and I'm sure it'll save you some undue stress in the future."
"I could totally do it! I'm just only used to a certain ship! It's supposed to be a graduation gift!"
"Just leave it, dude."
The captain watched the group of bantering officers with apprehension, pondering whether he should be reprimanding them or joining in. Under normal circumstances, keeping the cadets in line would be a priority, but these circumstances were anything but normal.
For now, punishments were up to his trusted subordinate's discretion.
"How long do you think it will take to rendezvous?" His question was directed at one of these subordinates, his young helmsman.
"I can't say for sure, sir. While I can tell that we have been closing in on it, I don't have a good idea of how fast. It doesn't help that I don't know its size. If I had to guess based on how big the stars attacks are at that distance, maybe two hours?"
An elderly man with a telescope and a strange wiry contraption voiced his consensus. "I would put two hours on the longer end, but even I can't say for sure. The brilliance from the sun's rays makes it terribly difficult on my aging eyesight, but I must agree that it will be some time."
"You can't divine anything more precise? If it was possible, I'd have already done so, Captain. Fear not for their safety, whoever is in control of that ship has an excellent sense of position." He gazed past the bow of the ship, towards the Noah. "Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I must head back to my quarters. This event has tired me greatly, and I must get back to plotting a course home."
"Thank you, Navigator."
"Speak nothing of it, Captain. It is the duty I have been called to perform."
Returning his scope to a satchel and placing the contraption in a case, the Navigator gripped his cane and made his way to the door.
"Helmsman! I had almost forgotten! If you could, please come to the chart room after this whole ordeal is squared away. I have much to discuss with you in regards to our return trip."
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